and shoulders shifting, the muscles rippling. Deciding not to wait for him to make a move, she went up on her toes, dragged his head down, and kissed him.
It was hot and fast and consuming. Their tongues battled, and he swallowed her moan. Her entire body heated and came alive.
It was also over far too quickly. He pushed her away and took a step back. “We need to get going.”
“Right. The gallery.” The kiss momentarily addled her brain. Once they left the safety of his home, any physical contact was out. They needed their wits about them.
They’d missed the opening last night, but she’d see Kayley’s work. And she’d find out how to contact her. The gallery would have some way of getting in touch with her.
Had she been lied to, used, manipulated? It was time to learn the truth.
Chapter Fifteen
Maccus held the gallery door. Morrigan gave him a curt nod, squared her shoulders, and entered. He fought the urge to drag her back to his place and keep her there.
But that wasn’t realistic. Their problem wasn’t going to go away, and he’d never hid from anyone or anything in his life. Better to face it head-on and take action. Offense was always better than defense.
She was dressed in her leather pants and jacket, but beneath was new underwear and a tank top he’d had delivered. Dangerous and delightful were the first two words that came to mind. Satisfaction, dark and deep, welled up within him. She was wearing clothing he’d provided.
The knife he’d given her was strapped to her arm beneath her jacket. The one she usually wore strapped to her leg was tucked at her back. And her gun was sitting in its holster beneath her shoulder.
There wasn’t another woman here who was anywhere near her equal. She was unique.
He pressed his hand against the small of her back and guided her forward when she paused just inside the door. The glittering crowd glanced in their direction. Many stopped what they were doing and stared. He was used to it, given his height and looks. People seemed either fascinated or afraid of him.
Since this was New York, many others were wearing black, so they didn’t stand out in that way. People wore leather and lace, silk and cotton, couture and thrift store. The murmur of voices and soft laughter swept around them as they moved deeper into the gallery.
Morrigan paused in front of a painting and gazed up at it. It was huge, dominating almost the entire height and width of the wall. Demons and dark images rose from a sea of fire. There was no hope, no salvation from above, only the laughing devil who stood and watched it all with glee.
The work was signed in red in the bottom right corner—Kayley.
“It’s him. It’s Lucifer.”
No mistaking him. The rendering was a perfect likeness. The setting was familiar to anyone who’d spent time in Hell. If he recognized it, she likely did, too.
“It is.” He couldn’t protect her from this. They were here to face whatever was to come.
“All this time…” Her voice trailed off as she moved to another painting, this one disturbingly erotic and set in the underworld. “How could she do this? Her work used to be filled with such light.”
“The work she showed you,” he reminded her. Kayley was manipulative, but he was afraid she would insist on seeing her sister as a victim. Family bonds died hard. Look at him. He’d believed in Gabriel right until the end, until it was too late.
A ripple ran through the crowd. Whispers grew, and anticipation crackled in the air. A woman entered the room. Her hair fell to her waist in a curtain of red. And in a sea of black and muted tones, she wore red. The dress clung to her curves and showed off both her bare shoulders and legs. Four-inch heels added to her height, making her almost six feet tall. The resemblance was unmistakable. In his mind, Kayley was a cheap imitation of the original.
“Kayley,” Morrigan whispered.
As though she heard her name, Kayley’s gaze whipped to